Because of the Times
by TheVerbalThing ComesAndGoes
Summary: He guesses he's always had a thing for artsy girls.


Because of the Times

Summary: He guesses he's always had a thing for artsy girls. (8 firsts/moments shared between Jimmy and Ellie)

Setting: up to season 5 (and a little beyond)

Disclaimer: lyrics belong to The Roots.

* * *

i. somebody once told me this planet was small...

Their first conversation is everything and nothing like he expected it to be.

He and Ashley are trying to make it work (again) and he is trying to convince himself that he's still just as into her as he was a year ago, and that his focus hasn't started to drift towards her new friend, Eleanor.

He's seen her before, in passing, in the halls.

He remembers being distracted by her multiple piercings and wild hair, wondering just who the hell she is, his gaze trailing after her as she cuts her way through the crowd, before finally telling himself that he's supposed to be looking for Ashley. He guesses, even then, he's always had a soft spot for artsy girls.

His hand jerks when she walks by, her shoulder brushing his elbow and jarring his arm, blue ink now marring the page he'd been writing on.

"Sorry," she mutters, and he is surprised at the fact that she's sincere. Jimmy looks down to find her staring at him, leaning against a locker with her hip cocked to the side to keep her balance. He shouldn't feel so uncomfortable to have her gaze so intently focused on him, but he is.

"It's alright." The pause that comes between them is awkward and long. It's one of the rare moments that occurs without the presence of Ashley and Jimmy finds himself worrying about the fact that it doesn't seem all that weird, even though, on some level, it should.

"Have you seen Ash?"

"No, uh, not yet."

"Okay. Well... see ya around."

"Yeah."

She backs away quickly, giving him some sort of awkward smile, but he doesn't miss the hand that lingered on his arm for just a moment.

* * *

ii. it's a matter of fact

His first stint in detention is her fourth.

Ellie is the first one there and for a moment, he ponders on the irony of it: punctuality in the midst of rebellion. The contradiction suits her.

But the moment passes, and for some reason he can't explain, he makes the conscious decision not to address her directly. That is, until she passes off the key to the bathroom.

Her sleeve is not quite pulled back down and as her hand slides the cool metal into his, Jimmy's eyes catch a glimpse of something that is probably too private and personal and just harsh for his mind to comprehend. Her scars are not something he should be allowed to see, not without her permission.

He takes the key and tries not to let on to what he's seen.

She sits in a seat at the back, her feet up in a chair he almost moves to sit in. For three minutes (and fifty seconds) they sit in silence until he turns to face her, ready to speak - about what, he has no idea - but Toby trickles in, and then Hazel and Sean and then another moment between them is lost.

* * *

iii. where the world ends:

The first time she visits him in the hospital is a moment that he barely remembers.

The plane between dream and consciousness is fragile, almost intangible and he struggles to gain his footing. Through the foggy hazes of morphine, he thinks he sees red. It isn't until she brings it up- months and months later- that he realizes it wasn't a dream.

When she visits him, she goes alone and the visits never last more than five minutes at a time, always during that dynamic time frame between the nurses' shift change.

She doesn't speak, and he doesn't push her to. She seems to be the only one who understands his need to not be consoled, not when soothing words won't bring back his ability to walk, to stand on his own.

One day, though, he's sitting up and staring at a bowl of cherry jello and he doesn't look up when Hazel ducks out of the room, trying not to let Jimmy see her tears, but he notices Ellie walk in and sit across from him moments later.

"Hey," is all she says.

"Hey," he returns. They don't say anything else after that; she doesn't ask him about physio or the quality of store-bought wheelchairs, and he doesn't ask her about...anything else.

But, he does offer her a spoonful of his jello.

* * *

iv. (another lonely night) on the side

The first time they're left alone is in Craig's garage.

At first, he doesn't see her standing there, running her fingers along cymbals coated by a thin film of dust, lightly tapping the pads of her fingertips on the drum set, watching him curiously. He picks up his guitar, plucking a few random notes, thinking about the past and his future, and the chrome seat placed permanently beneath him.

"Working on a new solo?"

"Shit." He drops his guitar without warning, but can't help smirking a little when he hears her laugh. "I, uh, didn't know you were here."

"I can tell," she murmurs, amused.

He maneuvers the chair so that he can face her, tries to force the smile on his face to be a little more sincere. Of course, she sees right through it.

"What's wrong?"

He looks up to answer, but in that moment, his brain chooses to remind him of how he used to be taller than her, that the first time he noticed her she was peering up at him, but those are minuscule facts that don't seem to matter anymore. "I don't know. I just...feel like something's missing but I don't know what- you ever feel like that?"

"Only about every other day," she says, understanding. She smiles, ruefully, her hand momentarily coming to rest on top of his.

Ellie opens her mouth to say something else, but Craig comes in before the words can come, bursting at the seams with his controlled yet still borderline manic excitement about the newest gig they've landed.

Jimmy watches as she, predictably, gets caught up in Craig's whirlwind, his mood spilling out and over her, affecting her. Craig will always affect her in some way, Jimmy thinks.

He decides that he can't blame her for it, not really.

* * *

v. let's link

The first time they go to an art gallery, his palms are sweaty and he has no idea what the hell he's doing. Trying to impress her, no doubt, but he wonders if she knows that or the reason behind it. Honestly, he can't tell the difference between a Chagall and a Picasso, has no idea what draws the line between impressionism and modern art. All he knows is what he feels when he's with her.

"It's not about right or wrong," Ellie tells him and he believes her. "...That's the beauty of art."

"Right. Art," he says and he isn't sure why she blushes, then, when she looks at him, can't figure out why she's trying to hide her eyes by shaking her head; red hair falling over her shoulder and draping across his chest, he realizes how close they are, that he does, in fact, like it.

He likes it a lot.

* * *

vi. ...then let it be known

Their first kiss could be described, at best, as unintentional.

He's sure that it's not what Ellie intended, and he feels far too much guilt over emotionally cheating on Hazel to admit that it's what he wants.

An accidental brush of lips, it barely even qualifies and does not last nearly as long as Jimmy would have liked; it is sweet but far too short. He's just had enough time to revel in the softness of her hair, the feeling of her nails scraping lightly across the back of his neck when, suddenly, it is all over.

They are interrupted—by his self doubt, her second guessing, and Marco, singing some show-tune, off key and in Italian.

She avoids his gaze and presses her fingertips against her throat, a spot near her pulse that his own hands were just caressing mere seconds ago, the only action that lets him know that it did happen, that it wasn't just some brief manifestation of his overactive imagination and wishes.

Jimmy brushes the back of his hand across his lips, tingling but not sore or bruised, as she picks her drumsticks up from the floor to take her place behind the drum set, protected, sheltered and far away from him.

And he almost succeeds in convincing himself that he doesn't miss touching her.

* * *

vii. things fall apart.

The first time he admits that there are real feelings there, it is in the worst possible moment: right in the middle of an argument between him and his girlfriend.

"Ellie, she...inspires me."

He hates disappointing people; living up to expectations is what Jimmy Brooks does best.

But he knows he's screwed up when Hazel looks at him; he knows he's messed up something and there isn't anything he can do to fix it.

He is denounced as a coward and she stalks away from him, their relationship solidly over. It isn't until she's inside the building that he realizes Hazel was right and he almost thanks her for having the courage to do something he never would have been able to.

* * *

viii. at the height of the night

She is the first- and only- person he lets see his scars: skin that has fused and been reborn, but wounds that will never completely heal.

In the middle of the night, he feels her hesitant fingers on his back, searching. He smiles when they come to rest on spine, feels her fingers tracing his wounds. He smiles, then, because he _can_ feel her.

* * *

fin.


End file.
